battered shins

[Pseudomuse]

battered shins

and you with your John Lennon glasses
(pick between your teeth.)
a phonographic needle of the brain
bop shu bop bop.

and me Miss Mercy Blue Eyes,
cold and comforted in this
spiralling delirium—we are the same.
and I sing to you, the chords and words
locked in my head.

cradle that guitar till the end of days,
intonation of Domesday in your arias–
sickness and dread. one day, they may
acknowledge your quetzal-green robes.

I lay here—naked, chest
caved open, smoke altered myopia;
grey ringlets in my evolution of nature.
All the while it grooves and twines
in my ears: bop shu bop bop.

[Robin]

A lot of nice rock moments here.

The first stanza is excellent, and the last, but I think the third one is sort of out of place. Maybe? That's the feeling I got from it. The line breaks are really sporadic throughout it, but then you have these lines with complete thoughts. It's a little odd, I thought.

[Ramona]

I like the odd images in this poem. Especially the,"...it grooves and twines
in my ears..."
I think actually saying bob shu bop bop kind of threw it off, though.

I agree with Robin about the third stanza, it does seem a little choppy in contrast to teh last stanza.